Monthly Archives: March 2017

For those 1st year students who have heard the rumours, it is true, building 19 is the Pandora’s box of all buildings, where the geographically impaired and the naïve students who choose to ignore the wall map upon entry will face great anguish. There are a countless number of lost souls that have been tormented by the many entrances and exits that lead to numerous stairwells resembling the artwork known as the “Penrose Stairs”. Psychology students have been working on a new diagnosis for patients of B19 who claim to envision the “Moving Staircases” of Hogwarts.

It is more likely through your years of study at UOW that there will be no other entrance you’re accustomed, or more comfortable to enter the building, than the one entered on your first adventure within B19. There simply is not enough time in your degree to find a different route to any room in the maze. Before you, many have tried and failed to find alternative routes only to find themselves falling ever deeper into the Rabbits Hole to find themselves in an Alice in Wonderland nightmare. Some of the professors resemble the Mad Hatter, 30 years of working and 30 years of being confined to a prison-cell of an office within this maze has sent them partially insane. Sometimes they exhibit perceivably normal behaviour, but their dress sense and marking habits indicate otherwise.

The current crop of art students may give off a false level of confidence that their knowledge of B19 is unmatchable, however, the rumours are true that the best Geospatial Information, Electronics and Software Engineering students are working on a new virtual mapping device for future students, that intends to save potentially minutes to years of B19 victims lives. Hopefully ending the B-grade horror movie situation that currently haunts UOW.

Your venture will somewhat parallel the image of your studies at UOW, in the sense that you will never be sure if you escape unscathed with your head still attached or be permanently, psychologically traumatised for your eternal days. You will only know when you breach that emergency (do not push: alarmed) exit door and the bright glistening of sunlight shines down on your tears soaked, art student approved moustache that you have finally…..finally liberated yourself of the infamous claw that is building 19.

Day 1: Australia has already betrayed me. What I expected to be a land of infinite sunshine and gold and rainbows has instead revealed itself to be Seattle; there are simply too many clouds in the sky, and I did not push a broken luggage cart through the windowless confines of Sydney Airport’s International Terminal to have my newfound surfer buzz quashed by an equally stark outdoors. That Australia would welcome me with such brazen disregard for my extremely nuanced perception of it is a slight I will not soon forget.

At any rate, I have successfully arrived in Wollongong safe and sound, despite the several heart attacks I had whilst being driven down the wrong side of the road. I don’t think my escort liked me very much, because every time I looked down at my phone, I would forget that Australians drive on the wrong side of the road, and I would scream and attempt to wrest control of the wheel from him whenever I looked up. Not helping matters was the fact that I couldn’t use my phone in Australia because I didn’t have a SIM card yet, which I forgot every time I screamed.

Things were not looking up for me as I stepped into Weerona College. Perhaps Australia and the United States were just too different, I thought. Sure, Australians may speak the same language as me, and most of them may be white like me, and they may understand all my cultural references, but I just didn’t see how I could connect with any of them. Maybe it’s just an incompatible pairing, like any of my electronics with their weird plugs. After nearly two hours, I was fully prepared to be miserable for the next five months. But I decided to give Australia one more fair go by dining with some locals.

And just like that, I had found a way in. They were loud. They were obnoxious. They wouldn’t stop ragging on each other. They had no interest in the foreigners.

They were just like Americans.

What a relief it was to sit among such company! That table was like a home away from home. Perhaps we’re not so different after all, I thought. One thing’s for sure, I’m going to rest easy tonight. Mostly because of jet lag, but you know. Tomorrow, I begin an adventure unlike any I’ve taken before!

Day 2: My electronics still don’t work with these plugs, which means I can’t shave, which means I look like a werewolf. I hate Australia.

University of Sydney: With the amount of Prime Ministers this university has produced, and their 99.95 ATAR cut off for any degree other than a Bachelor of Creative Arts majoring in Interpretive Dance, they are undoubtedly the stereotypical law student. USYD is the kind of guy who struts to lectures wearing a blazer and law textbooks visibly in his hand for anyone passing by. His Daddy was a lawyer, his Granddaddy was an even bigger lawyer, and his great-Granddaddy owned slaves even after slavery was abolished. To attend this university you either have to be incredibly smart, incredibly rich or work incredible hard, and who wants a friend like that? How dare they make you feel inadequate about yourself on three different levels!

University of NSW: With a far more reasonable 98.95 ATAR cut off for their degrees, UNSW is naturally more relatable and approachable. She is a med student who works at the uni’s most popular café. She also interns at St. Vincent’s hospital, and you only know this because she never fails to mention it every time you order a coffee. What she does fail to mention is that Daddy is a head surgeon there. However, you let it slide because she invites you to her summer house parties while her parents are in Europe.
University of Technology Sydney: The guy no one wants to be stuck talking to at a party.

Charles Sturt University: Located across in-land NSW, he is your imported country student, likely from Wagga or Orange. Just like their university is scattered across the East of Australia, this guy is completely scattered at every party you attend. You will find yourself in a drunk conversation jumping between the topics of his HD English literature thesis to the time he accidentally shot his uncles ear off when they were out pigging.

Australian Catholic University: Despite never having met anyone from this university, and having absolutely no basis for the following assessment, they are the people handing out bibles in front of the library. You always accept them, not out of religious interest, but out of the fear of God’s almighty wrath.

UOW: We may not have the best academic reputation in Australia, but we do have the best looking campus with the best looking students, and this is why we are the hot, semi-insta-famous commerce student. She somehow averages a distinction despite every Monday being tagged in photos from parties the weekend before. She used to smoke, but recently quit. Starts off every semester with the post: ‘Would much rather be *insert recent holiday activity* in *insert recently visited city* than studying right now’. We may not be the best student, but we do have the best body, so who is the real winner?